Doubles

Doubles are the hardest.  Whenever Chaz works a double, that wondrous 16 hour shift that has him gone 18 hours once you figure in driving time, I come very close to going crazy.  Don't get me wrong, I love my girls.  They are the pride and joy of my life and I would not trade them or my job as a mother for anything.  But damn, doubles are the hardest.

It was never our intention to have two children this close together.  We'd always known we wanted more than one kid (we're still debating between 3, 4 or 5) but we'd always pictured them being 2-3 years apart, minimum.  Not 19 months apart.  That was why when we had Aubrey I got onto what was supposed to be the most effective form of birth control other than abstinence.  Apparently, I'm ridiculously fertile and terribly unlucky (or, depending on how you want to look at it, terribly lucky).  Anyway, when Aubrey was a scant 11 months old, another stick turned pink.  Lucky me.

Many people have told me that in the end it will be a blessing to have two girls this close together and they're probably right.  Give it another year, year and a half and they'll both be old enough to entertain each other without much help from me (not saying that I won't be involved because I definitely will be.  But chances are when I need a five minute break, they won't notice my absence as immediately as they do now. )  But right now, having a seven week old that is much clingier than her sister ever was and a toddler that isn't used to having to share the attention, 18 hours with both of them on my own can be a real challenge.

It absolutely never fails that they both start fussing at the same time.  Aubrey can't have her crises when Daphnie is sleeping and Daphnie can't wait to eat when Aubrey has just tripped and stubbed a toe.  Everything happens at once and I have two screaming children who want attention and want it NOW.  Oftentimes it makes for a whopping headache, which may I say, does NOT help the situation.

I often wonder if God gave me two children this close together to teach me patience and love.  I have never failed to admit that patience has never been one of my virtues.  I have also never failed to admit that I can be an extremely vindictive person.  I'm not proud of it, it's just the way I am.  But I have to be patient with my kids.  I can't cuss them out when I get mad and storm out of the room.  I can't ignore them.  I can't scream at the top of my lungs and burst into tears (although I have come very close to doing that in the past).  I have to simply take a deep breath, remind myself that they are only babies and I am responsible for their care.  Unfortunately, on an extremely trying day (like today has been), by hour 11 or 12, deep breaths start being hard to come by.

As hard as the doubles are and as frustrated as I can get, they are a reminder to me of how blessed I truly am for the family and support system I have.  I probably don't say thank you enough to the people that are always more than willing to lend a hand (or an ear) when I need help.  I have two wonderful parents and two wonderful in-laws.  My girls couldn't ask for better grandparents.  My brother and sister-in-law are a Godsend, often taking the girls for multiple days at a time so that Chaz and I can have a breather.  My niece and nephew live right down the road and 9 times out of 10 are looking for some baby practice.  I am extremely grateful to each and every one of them and the impact they've made on my life.

Doubles are definitely the hardest.  But God has given me help as long as I'm not too proud to ask for it--and trust me, I'm learning to simply ask for it.  If I don't, chances are I might not make it through the day.  :)